Sarjapura - A Village in Transit
Located towards the south-east of Bangalore, the village of Sarjapura was once teeming with flora and fauna, but over time it has become a significant actor in the city’s growth story. For the last two decades or so, construction and real estate development have drastically transformed the landscape. However, amongst the newly constructed buildings, there is evidence of its green past as it is still home to a small community of farmers. Just like the landscape, Sarjapura’s people have also been changed, but several age-old practices still remain in the community.
A saree-clad cow herder bends down to pick and collect some greens. Curiously, she is not on a farm but is foraging in the bushes around the boundary of Sarjapura’s central lake. To the urban observer, it would appear that she is collecting weeds, but in actuality, she is looking for uncultivated, seasonal herbs that grow in the wild. Over the years, she has grown adept at identifying these herbs. Not only does she know which ones to leave and which to pick out, but experience has taught her where and when to look for them. Like every other crop, the growth of these herbs is determined by the turn of the seasons and it is only through a deep understanding of the landscape that she is able to find them.
These highly beneficial weeds are native to the locality and have traditionally serviced the villagers’ nutritional needs for generations, but the skill of identifying them is not as common as one might imagine. The average Sarjapura resident would not be able to recognize most of these herbs. Honing the skill requires years of practice and it is generally perfected by women cow herders who live in joint families. Surprisingly, even though they are more nutritious than popular greens like Palak and Methi, they never make it to the vegetable markets due to the general lack of awareness about the local produce.
Food, Family and Preservation
Most of Sarjapura's old inhabitants live in large, joint families of about 10-15 people. This has changed over the years and the nuclear household is common now, with increasing migration to the city. On an average, the older homes have about 3-4 brothers and their families living under one roof, with shared agriculture and household responsibilities. While the men tend to the farmlands, the women divide up the rest of the work. Some go out to herd cattle and milk them, while others manage house-duties like cooking, washing and cleaning.
Meals in these agrarian households are simple, made with the most basic ingredients that are locally grown in their own fields. Recipes are mostly passed down through generations and stay intact, remaining true to their original forms. Even staple dishes like palya and saaru are different from their urban counterparts. For instance, the tadka prepared here is unique to every dish, unlike the standard, all-encompassing tadka that is prevalent across urban recipes. The focus here is on bringing out the core flavour of the produce, as opposed to masking it with strong masalas.
Sarjapura Curries
Suresh Kumar, an artist who was born and raised in the village is on a mission to revive Sarjapur’s traditional recipes. What began as cooking experiments in remembrance of his late mother, eventually turned into something more focused, when he realised that many of his relatives had forgotten how to cook with the local greens and were adapting to more globalised food trends. To counter this change, he initiated ‘Sarjapura Curries’ - a project that aims to educate locals about their traditional food systems. Inspired by the concept of a kitchen garden, Suresh set up a communal “weed garden” dedicated to the local herbs. He sought the help of local women in the community, encouraging them to come together, pool their knowledge, grow these lesser known greens and rediscover their ancestral recipes.
“So my first aim was to identify these weeds and set up a nursery at a community centre. My idea was to set up a nursery first, propagate the important weeds, identify the lost varieties and eventually encourage these women to have a kitchen garden. Before I began the project, I would try to talk to them about these points but they were hard to convince and had almost given up on these methods.”
Suresh discovered that his community’s relationship with food was changing, primarily to suit urban, nuclear families. Grocery stores in the region were catering to the tastes of people who had migrated from elsewhere, resulting in the gradual extinction of indegenous crop species.
Evidence of this can be seen with the Thondekayi (humble ivy gourd), which is local and easily grown. Over time, it has been replaced by the Tindaye (Indian round gourd), which is originally from the northern part of the country. Pumpkin sizes have also reduced, to cater to nuclear families of 3-4 people and in the process, the taste of the local pumpkin has been compromised. While the newer pumpkins are more aesthetically pleasing, those who have tasted the heirloom variety bear testimony to the loss of flavour. Even the bottle gourd, which used to have 20-30 varieties, has now been standardised into a single, short-sized one. Similar changes can be seen with most of the vegetables being grown here, driven by the preferences of urban consumers, who do not even realize that something is being lost.
However, due to efforts from within the community by individuals like Suresh Kumar, a revival of these local greens is currently underway and an increasing number of local residents are building their own weed gardens. Today, it is becoming common for families in Sarjapura to save their broken tiles and repurpose them for the building of garden-beds. From the collection of endangered seeds and saplings, to the revival of the age-old recipes that use them, the village is gradually reclaiming its roots.
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